Flitterblooms and Firewhiskey
by michelle-31a
Summary: A "missing scene" set in OoTP, when Hermione decides to turn to Luna Lovegood for help...


Author's Note: I co-wrote this "missing scene" piece with Red Monster from FA after having discussions about how Luna & Hermione worked out their plan to get Harry's story published. She wrote Hermione's lines and I wrote Luna's, and we both dabbled with Rita's...this is my first attempt at co- writing anything, so hope you all like!  
  
FLITTERBLOOMS AND FIREWHISKEY  
  
Scene 1 - Hermione Writes  
  
"Dear Luna,"  
  
Hermione Granger bit into her lower lip. It wasn't the asking that bothered her, it was the part that would come after.  
  
"There's something I need to talk to you about."  
  
At least she could trust Luna to listen. In fact, she had a feeling a lot of people could trust Luna to listen to them about jaw-droppingly ludicrous things that nobody else would ever believe, a tendency that could surely be used against her by some unsavoury character.  
  
But Luna believed Harry.  
  
There was something to be said for that. Lord Voldemort coming back was nothing like the Crumple-Horned Snorkack or Blibbering Humdinger or Heliopaths. At least she could believe something no one wanted to be real.  
  
"Would you please meet me behind Greenhouse Three on Wednesday evening at 5:00?"  
  
The greenhouse would be common ground for them. Luna seemed to enjoy Herbology, so if Hermione couldn't break the ice, they could always discuss the Venomous Tentacula. Yes, that would work.  
  
"Please respond soon. If you can't make it on Wednesday evening, we can meet another time, but I do need to speak with you."  
  
After some of the things she'd said to Luna (and about her within her earshot, or around her), Hermione knew she needed to be flexible. She was not about to stand in the cold behind Greenhouse Three for an hour, all alone, only to find out that Luna didn't show up because it wasn't a good time for her.  
  
"It's about the recent article in the Daily Prophet about the Azkaban breakout."  
  
She was just about to close and sign the letter, but then hesitated. That line about the Daily Prophet article wouldn't do. Luna would immediately know what Hermione was up to. She pointed her wand at the last sentence and erased it. She would explain herself in person to Luna, when it was just them and the greenhouse, but not before then.  
  
"Sincerely, Hermione Granger"  
  
She rolled up the parchment, addressed it, and left the dormitory for the Owlery, stowing the scroll in her robes as she closed the door behind her.  
  
Writing to Luna was harder than writing to Rita Skeeter. While Hermione didn't relish the thought of being within 10 miles of Rita again, at least she knew she wouldn't have to justify herself to the unemployed journalist and unregistered Animagus. For several months, she'd toyed with the idea of getting Harry an interview about his experience after the Third Task and having it published in The Quibbler, but actually putting the plan into motion...  
  
But as the tawny owl flew out the window towards West Tower, she reminded herself, it was the only thing to do. The Daily Prophet was still considered the legitimate publication for the Wizarding world in Britain, but honestly, a half-grown troll could see the holes in its coverage of the mass breakout from Azkaban. Though she didn't know how much faith she could put in Apollo Lovegood's journalistic integrity after some of the stories she'd seen in his magazine, one thing was for certain: he and his daughter didn't give a toss about getting on the wrong side of the Ministry of Magic. Hermione Granger admired that.  
  
Scene 2 - Luna Replies  
  
Luna lowered the letter to her lap and stared at the parchment's signature.  
  
Well, that's rather intriguing, she thought. Hermione Granger, wanting to speak to her in private. Wednesday at 5:00...  
  
She was going to have to make a special note of that. Appointments were not something Luna regarded with much fondness; living for the moment was not a philosophy that lent itself particularly well to schedules and engagements.  
  
But then, there was no question of not acquiescing to Hermione Granger's request; Luna's insatiable curiosity had been piqued.  
  
Besides, the Gryffindor Prefect wouldn't have made such a request if it wasn't important. Important and obviously secret. Could it have to do with the rumoured student's revolt she'd heard brewing about in hushed circles over the last few days? There had been much grumbling about Professor Umbridge's seemingly endless string of decrees of late; perhaps Hermione wanted to recruit her as a revolutionary?  
  
Unlikely, she decided. Meeting every student this way would take ages. School would be out for the summer before they could effect a proper revolt.  
  
Luna supposed she could try and guess as to the subject of the meeting, but that would have to wait until later. A perfunctory reply had been requested, after all.  
  
She looked up at the tawny owl waiting patiently up on her windowsill overlooking her bed. "Would you mind terribly waiting just a bit longer?" she whispered to the light brown bird, holding up the parchment unnecessarily. "I'd like to send off a reply to this."  
  
A muted hoot communicated an avian agreement, as Luna slid off the edge of her bed and into her carpet slippers before making her way quietly to the small writing desk in the corner of the dormitory. She dipped the quill in the inkwell, flipped the letter over and started writing on the reverse side. There was no need to waste a perfectly good, half-empty parchment, after all.  
  
"Dear Hermione,  
  
Of course I'd be happy to meet with you. Greenhouse Three happens to be my favourites too, so if you don't see me there at 05:00 I'll just be inside pruning the Flitterblooms."  
  
Luna drew back and tilted her head, staring at the parchment. Her curiosity was pushing her to ask for clues, but all would be revealed in good time, concluded. She dipped her quill once more and continued.  
  
"Well, I'm turning in for the night, so I suppose I'll see you two days hence, then.  
  
Sleep tight, and don't let the Bollywoggles bite,  
  
Luna"  
  
She rolled up the parchment and tied it to the owl's leg with its original ribbon. She gave the bird a few owl treats before sending it off into the cool night sky.  
  
She watched it fly off until it was no longer visible before gently closing the windows once more, mindful of her sleeping bunkmates. She drew herself back into bed and pulled the blankets snugly up to her neck. She stared for a long time at the ceiling, sounding her thoughts off the stone and wooden supports overhead.  
  
Many theories fluttered through her consciousness, though none really stuck. The oddest part of it all was that it had been Hermione Granger, of all people, to request this meeting. Though Luna liked and respected the Gryffindor Prefect (even despite her rather closed-mindedness, she was quite brilliant and imaginative, after all), the reverse had seemed implausible. She sighed softly; the next couple of days were going to prove most interesting, she could tell...  
  
Scene 3 - Who Let These Two Meet In Secret?  
  
Two things could be deduced, as Hermione marched through the snow on the way to Greenhouse Three. One, she was late. Two, Luna either didn't know how to perform an Obliteration Charm, or didn't bother with them. The former would be understandable; Luna was a fourth-year, and Hermione hadn't learned the charm until earlier that winter, and she'd only learned it from reading about Advanced Charms that weren't taught until 6th year. Still, Hermione Obliterated both her own and Luna's footprints on the way to the greenhouse. Most of the school was heading towards the Great Hall right now, but she didn't want anyone to get curious and follow them to their meeting.  
  
Either she was late, or Luna had arrived early because she just loved to prune Flitterblooms. Well, at least the greenhouses were charmed to stay warm inside. The last thing she needed right now was to shiver.  
  
"Hello, Luna. I'm glad you could make it."  
  
The young Ravenclaw looked up. Her hair was pinned up, albeit very loosely, enabling a good many long, stray strands to escape their binding.  
  
"Hello," she said vaguely, pulling up from her crouched position before the Flitterblooms and putting her shears on the workbench. She brushed off a bit of dirt from her robes and came to stand before Hermione, staring at the Gryffindor expectantly with those huge, slightly disconcerting, unblinking silver eyes.  
  
Hermione clasped her hands in front of her and straightened up, as though preparing herself to make a speech. At the sight of her reflection in Luna's eyes, she untensed and let out a sudden breath. "Listen, about this meeting. It's about my friend Harry. You know, Harry Potter."  
  
Luna smiled slightly, twisting one long stray lock absentmindedly through her fingers.  
  
"Yes, I know Harry," she said dreamily. "He's rather sweet, actually. He's not at all how the Prophet portrays him, is he?"  
  
Hermione's face opened up into a smile of her own, clearly pleased at Luna's assessment. "Exactly," she said, nodding involuntarily. "The Prophet's got him all wrong; he really is a good person, and perfectly lucid, and he needs a chance to tell his story. So I'm arranging for him to have an interview, to explain how he saw Voldemort come back." She drew back into her tense, steely posture. Slowly and carefully, she said, "And I was hoping it could be published in The Quibbler."  
  
For one of the very few times Hermione had ever witnessed, Luna blinked. The pale hand twisting her lock of hair suddenly froze as though stupefied. Hermione stiffened, expecting the worst.  
  
Instead, Luna tilted her head slightly to one side, her luminous eyes giving her a decidedly pixieish appearance. Whether she was contemplating Hermione's words or not was difficult to tell. The prolonged silence was becoming rather awkward, at least for one Gryffindor Prefect.  
  
"Well?" she asked, in a slightly higher voice than she intended. "What do you say to that?"  
  
"I'm sorry," said Luna serenely, her hand resuming its distracted twirling of her hair, "I was trying to see if you were fibbing. People seem to do that a lot with me, I've noticed. But I do think you're sincere..."  
  
She straightened up and looked Hermione straight in the eyes, a dreamy smile forming on her face. "You know, I think that's a wonderful idea."  
  
"You do?" responded Hermione, her face positively glowing with happiness and relief. "Oh, I'm so glad! I've already written to a reporter who can conduct the interview with Harry. Will you write to your father and ask him if he'd be willing to run it?"  
  
Luna's smile abruptly vanished as her eyes widened precipitously. "It's not someone from The Daily Prophet, is it?" she asked cautiously. "Because Daddy would never run it – "  
  
Hermione's eyes widened almost as wide as Luna's, and her lower lip once again became a chew toy, before her face relaxed partway. "You know what? She *used* to work for the Daily Prophet, but she's...between work right now. She's had to take a year off, and she owes me a favor. In fact, she owes me several favors if I say she does, but the point is, she'll work on our terms. She hasn't been on writing terms with the Prophet since June."  
  
Luna appeared to take these words into consideration. "Well, I suppose it's all right, then," she said thoughtfully. "Daddy doesn't like the Prophet very much. He says they try to influence public opinion instead of just reporting the news. He says they're just a puppet of the Ministry."  
  
"And he's absolutely right. They don't care about the truth anymore; take the article about the Azkaban breakout, for instance. Their coverage is grossly inadequate, and it's not hard to see there's a lot of information missing from their story. That's why I respect your father's work; he's honest about what he prints."  
  
At that, Luna took a sudden step back, looking at Hermione with an unfathomable expression as her pale cheeks suddenly flushed visibly.  
  
"You don't have to pretend, you know," she said softly, her voice suddenly losing its dreamy quality. "I know you don't think very highly of Daddy's paper. You called it rubbish, as I recall. I do want to help, but please don't be spurious; I can tell rather well."  
  
Hermione's erect posture crumpled slightly and she looked off to the side. "When I said that, I was speaking more from reputation than experience. From what I'd heard about your father's paper, it really sounded like rubbish. But, since we met on the train, I've tried reading The Quibbler, and I've found that it's really quite interesting. That was an inappropriate thing of me to say, that remark about it being rubbish. I really should have seen it for myself before making an assessment like that."  
  
Luna stared at her, wide-eyed and with an even greater look of surprise than usual.  
  
"Oh..." she said softly, "...well...that's different, then..."  
  
Luna suddenly walked right up to Hermione and pressed a small length of Flitterbloom vine into the Gryffindor's palm. "All right," she said, a dreamy smile returning to her features, "I'll owl Daddy tonight. I'm sure he'll say yes, though. He knows the Prophet has been painting Harry as being quite unhinged over the last few months. But Harry's no more unhinged than I am, really."  
  
Galleons were not made to be as big as Hermione's eyes at that particular moment; a striking contrast to her oddly pinched mouth. It took some seconds before she spoke, during which time Luna simply gazed serenely back at her. "Thank you," she finally said. "I really appreciate your help."  
  
Luna smiled and drifted off to the greenhouse's door, pausing a moment to look back at Hermione.  
  
"Well, I'm going for a walk around the lake," she offered. "It's the perfect time to go scouting for Humdinger tracks, you know, with the snow and all. Would you like to come?"  
  
"That sounds fascinating," said Hermione, her eyebrows knitted so far together her forehead resembled a sideways washboard. "But I need to get dinner, Harry and Ron are wondering where I am by now, and then I have Transfiguration homework. But enjoy yourself, and keep warm, alright?"  
  
Though Luna looked briefly disappointed, it lasted for only a moment as the prospects of looking for one of her mythical creatures evidently greatly enthused her. With one airy wave of a hand she opened the door and drifted out into the landscape of freshly fallen snow.  
  
Scene 4 - Lions and Eagles and Beetles, Oh My!  
  
Luna sedately stirred her Gillywater with her onion on a stick, staring at the various patrons coming in and leaving the bustling Three Broomsticks Inn. Hermione had not yet arrived, but it was still early, judging from the old wooden clock on the wall. She'd decided to arrive well in advance, just in case. Keeping appointments was such a hassle, especially when one didn't possess a watch, but now that she was here, all she had left to do was wait. And waiting was something she was very good at.  
  
She took a tentative sip; not quite enough onion juice, she decided, as she resumed serenely mixing her drink.  
  
She thought back to her initial meeting with Hermione a few days before. It was very odd, how the Gryffindor had suddenly transformed her opinion of The Quibbler. At first, Luna had been uncharacteristically suspicious, though where her father was concerned, Luna made exceptions to her normally unfettered philosophy. As it had turned out, Hermione had been sincere in her self-admonition, of that Luna was absolutely convinced.  
  
She liked Hermione, she'd decided. She had the brains for Ravenclaw, certainly, but more importantly, her loyalty to Harry and her other friends was obviously unshakeable. Luna greatly admired that. She concluded that it was all right to put her trust in Hermione Granger.  
  
Who had, incidentally, just walked in through the door, knocking the snow from her boots and unwrapping her long Gryffindor scarf as she scanned the crowded room. Luna waited for Hermione's gaze to turn to her corner of the inn before waving.  
  
Hermione smiled and gave a quick wave in return before striding through the inn towards Luna's table. Draping her scarf and cloak over the back of a chair, she sat down in the seat next to the younger girl. "I just heard back from the reporter *this morning,*" she said darkly. "Can you imagine if she hadn't written back by now? But no matter, she'll be here. Harry might be bringing Cho Chang with him when he arrives."  
  
Luna gazed at Hermione while sucking on her cocktail onion; Madame Rosmerta was currently occupied serving a table at the far side of the room, though she nodded towards Hermione to at least indicate she'd seen her arrive.  
  
"I saw them sitting together at Madam Puddifoot's, actually," aired Luna out of the blue, having resumed the stirring of her drink. "They didn't seem to be getting on very well though."  
  
"Oh, dear," Hermione moaned, her face falling. "I hope they'll be okay. And there's the reporter," she finished, looking towards the door as a disheveled, rather disgruntled-looking woman crossed the threshold. Hermione waved her arm in the air until the woman spotted their table and headed towards it. "All right, Little Miss Perfect, I'm here," she snapped, dropping herself into a chair. "Now what do you want?" "Luna Lovegood, meet Rita Skeeter."  
  
"Hello," said Luna dreamily before taking to sucking on her cocktail onion once again, staring at the former Daily Prophet columnist with her enormous, slightly mad eyes.  
  
Rita gaped at Luna and then looked back to Hermione.  
  
"You brought me here to meet...that?" she exclaimed incredulously. "No," said Hermione in a dignified voice that dripped with annoyance. "I brought you here to see Harry Potter. He'll be arriving at noon." Madam Rosmerta had just arrived at their table. "What can I get you ladies?" Rita looked expectantly at Hermione. "Don't worry, I'm buying. Order away." "I'll have a firewhiskey." "Right away. And you, Miss?" "I'll have a cherry soda." "Why in the name of Janus Thickey would you want me to meet with Harry Potter?" demanded Rita after Madam Rosmerta left to make their drinks. "You'll find out when he gets here."  
  
Luna plunked her onion back into her drink and resumed stirring, never taking her eyes off Rita Skeeter.  
  
"What are you looking at?" snapped Rita as the huge form of Hagrid rose from a table at the far side of the inn and made his way outside.  
  
"Daddy says firewhiskey addles the mind, you know," said Luna serenely.  
  
The unemployed reporter ogled Luna before turned to Hermione with a disbelieving expression. "You want me to meet with Harry Potter, and you bring this along??"  
  
"Speaking of Harry," interrupted Luna, "he's here. See?"  
  
She pointed to a small table in the far corner, where Harry was seated by himself and looking rather despondent.  
  
Hermione turned her head so fast in the direction of Luna''s pointing that she nearly cricked her neck. She spotted Harry and then turned back to Rita. "That's right, you're here to see Harry, and Luna and I," she placed a distinct emphasis on the Ravenclaw's name, "are here to supervise the meeting," she finished, aiming a withering glare at Rita. She stood up, turned towards the table where Luna had just pointed out Harry, and waved her arm in the air. "Harry! Harry, over here!" 


End file.
